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View Poll Results: How is it?...(the story, is what I mean)
it's okay (3-4 stars) 3 16.67%
I love it! (5 stars) 11 61.11%
HATE IT! (1 stars) 0 0%
not sure..... (n/a--unsure) 3 16.67%
horribly written, but nice idea! (2 stars) 2 11.11%
Multiple Choice Poll. Voters: 18. You may not vote on this poll

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Name: Diane | Gender: Female | Age: 26 | Posts: 142 | Roses: 10
Old 01-01-2008 at 08:21 AM
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pretty well written. very nice description. i enjoyed reading it. u have a very nice plot going as well. ^^ i like the story so far and i hope u continue to keep posting more. i shall watch this thread so i can keep reading ^_^ lol i write novels and poems, so when i find someone i think has some talent in writting i like to tell them lol. i think u have some talent, and wonder if u have thought about looking into a carreer in writting? anyways i enjoyed reading it.

i would like to add that there are a few typos. not really any other errors then that. ^_^ everyone does typos, including me lol.
i can see u used the description of erik from the new poto movie. which is very nice, i do enjoy that film, but i jus thought id add the description given for the real poto, "He is extraordinarily thin and his dress-coat hangs on a skeleton frame. His eyes are so deep that you can hardly see the fixed pupils. You just see two big black holes, as in a dead man's skull. His skin, which is stretched across his bones like a drumhead, is not white, but a nasty yellow. His nose is so little worth talking about that you can't see it side-face; and the absence of that nose is a horrible thing to look at. All the hair he has is three or four long dark locks on his forehead and behind his ears." -'poto' by gaston L.-


*In every shadow there is light, in every tear a smile. In death I know there still is life that lingers for awhile.*-Anonymous

●I am but a mere black rose....I am but the shadow that cloaks the night, forever bond to darkness...yet am I really such a fright?●

"Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo

"I felt myself shrinking and shriveling before her clear, candid gaze. I was once more that small boy, twisting a napkin around my finger in absolute terror that my request would be denied. Such a little thing, really, a kiss...most people don't give it a moment's consideration. They kiss on meeting, they kiss on parting, that simple touching of flesh is taken entirely for granted as a basic human right."-Erik from Susan Kay's Phantom-
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Name: Diane | Gender: Female | Age: 26 | Posts: 142 | Roses: 10
Old 01-01-2008 at 08:21 AM
death_shadows
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 Post [12] »


btw i gave 5 stars ^^


*In every shadow there is light, in every tear a smile. In death I know there still is life that lingers for awhile.*-Anonymous

●I am but a mere black rose....I am but the shadow that cloaks the night, forever bond to darkness...yet am I really such a fright?●

"Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo

"I felt myself shrinking and shriveling before her clear, candid gaze. I was once more that small boy, twisting a napkin around my finger in absolute terror that my request would be denied. Such a little thing, really, a kiss...most people don't give it a moment's consideration. They kiss on meeting, they kiss on parting, that simple touching of flesh is taken entirely for granted as a basic human right."-Erik from Susan Kay's Phantom-
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Name: Jacqueline | Gender: Female | Posts: 17 | Roses: 12
Old 01-02-2008 at 11:20 PM
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very well writeten im glad u chose to write it. The fact u used new chacters and old ones was facsinating. and by the wat thanks for reading my Phic cause no one else did.
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Name: Diane | Gender: Female | Age: 26 | Posts: 142 | Roses: 10
Old 01-03-2008 at 11:59 PM
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 Post [14] »


:( post more soon. lol


*In every shadow there is light, in every tear a smile. In death I know there still is life that lingers for awhile.*-Anonymous

●I am but a mere black rose....I am but the shadow that cloaks the night, forever bond to darkness...yet am I really such a fright?●

"Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo

"I felt myself shrinking and shriveling before her clear, candid gaze. I was once more that small boy, twisting a napkin around my finger in absolute terror that my request would be denied. Such a little thing, really, a kiss...most people don't give it a moment's consideration. They kiss on meeting, they kiss on parting, that simple touching of flesh is taken entirely for granted as a basic human right."-Erik from Susan Kay's Phantom-
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Name: Patricia Jane [pətrɪʃə dʒeɪn] | Gender: Lady | Age: 22 | Posts: 2,327 | Roses: 50
Old 01-06-2008 at 06:53 AM
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I Never Knew It ~ Chapter 6 ~ I Have Come Here...But Why?  Post [15] »


MEMO:
Excuse my French spelling and horrid grammar!!!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

Melonie

The next day, I began working at the Opera House. It was very a eventful, full of energy, and fast moving pace that everyone was going at. Nothing every seemed to stop going on; from the moment I woke, to when dance rehearsal started. There I was acquainted with the rest of the dancers.

“Melonie, this is Cloé, Chantal, Meg, Megan, Karen, and Haley.” Madame Giry said pointing out ever which girl she was referring too, “Everyone this is Melonie, she is joining us from Ireland. Please be kind and help her with anything she needs. She just lost a dear and close friend.”

“Hello, everybody! It's really great being here!” I said smiling. But really deep down, I was frightened beyond my imagination. They all just looked at me like, well, I really don't know….

Everyone started to go back to stretching and warming up for the allegro repertoire, until a very young girl came out from behind everyone, “Hi, I'm Meg, so how do like the Opera House so far.”

She had pretty blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. She was very cute, and tall. She was about a centimeter taller than me. Not much, but still noticeable!

Lord, I wish I grew more ages ago!

“Oh, well, everything's really nice, but that mirror in my room is completely peculiar! I mean....” I stopped dead in my words. Why does talking get the better of me every time?

“What did you say?” Meg asked, but she very well knew what I had said I knew from her tone.

“Nothing!” I said quickly.

“No, you did!” Meg replied.

“Then.....” I had to think fast, “Why did you ask?”

“Oh, come on! Tell me!” Meg asked eagerly.

“Nothing! I just thought I saw something in my mirror last night, that's all!” I said quietly.

“What?” Meg asked firmly.

“Nothing!”

“A ghost?” She tried to offer an idea.

I shook my head 'no'.

“Then what?”

I looked around, hoping no one would hear. Especially Madame Giry, If anything goes wrong tell her immediately…… I thought mockingly, Sure! Right!

“A mask...” I said quietly and rapidly.

Meg looked at her in fright with wide-eyed look, “Well.....did you?”

“No....just seeing things is all that I meant……”

“Okay, what ever you say!”

I had my moment of being relieved and calm for the day, Thank God!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

Melonie

After rehearsal, I really need to talk to Meg. I was just too overly curious about the Phantom. What was he like? Why was he so feared by everybody? And most importantly of all....what was the purpose of all those lyrics and note?

“Hello, Meg!” I call to her at dinner, gesturing for her to sit with me.

“Hi, Melonie!” Meg replied joyfully, then seeing my expression of seriousness she softened her tone, “What wrong?”

“Nothing! It's just, I have a few question.”

“About what?” Meg asked smiling.

I looked around to check if anyone was listening to our conversation, and whispered, “The Phantom.” I then moved a bit to readjust myself more comfortable in my seat.

Meg's smile fell, “Why?” She asked as she sat down. Meg looked as if she were in shock that I brought the subject up.

“Just want to know...for further, usage. . .” I replied casually.

“Okay, well, you know he was the one that killed Patrick...” Meg replied solemnly.

“Yes, I know, I got over that,” I said with bit of a mournful tone, “But why is he so feared of everyone?” I asked changing my tone to a casual questionable.

“Well, you see, he has a deformity that is just completely hideous, and--” she took in a breath of air, held it, and continued, “He's known as a murderer and mad man, completely insane I tell you!”

I looked at Meg in confusion, “I’m sure that he’s not a pariah. And as well, I'm sure his deformity's not that bad. Have you ever seen him?” I asked for truth of Meg's claim.

“Yes, before he took Christine to his lair,” she looked around to check if anyone was listening, “I don't think my mother knows, but I went to his lair.”

My eyes widen, “You did? What was it like?” I asked eagerly.

“Hideous…”

“His home?”

“Oh, I thought you meant his face…”

I gasped, “That was harsh on his account,” I pointed out, “but I meant his lair…” I said correcting her answer.

“Oh….cold, dark, and despairing...” She said gloomily, recalling her memory of the Phantom's lair. There was a moment of silence between the two of us.

“Is he as bad and evil as they say he is?”

“I don't really know, but he must be if they say he is....”

“How can you just judge him like that if you don't know?” I asked a little angrily at Meg.

"Then why are you asking me for an opinion. . ."

"Smart little girl, aren't we?"

Meg was silent after her slight smile, and then started to reply back, “Are you in his defense?”

“No! It's just...” I really had to think fast….But really, Was I in his defense? “I can't judge him without even knowing him, and besides, everyone has some good in them! Right?” I said stubbornly.

Meg was silent and then raised her eyebrows and raised her small shoulders, meaning that she accepted my perspective of him.

“So what happened when Christine went down there to visit that Phantom once in a while? I've heard may stories in the newspaper…always something going on around the world and all,” I asked out of curiosity as I took a piece of my bread and stirred it in the broth of my soup.

“You have a whole lot of question about him don't you?” Meg smiled. “Well, Christine never really talked to me much after everyone heard of her visitations, she might have been ashamed.”

“Why would she be ashamed of visiting someone?”

“You didn't know?” Meg thinking that I'd just understand.

“Know what?” I question.

“She was engaged to the Vitcome De Chagny at the time! Can't you see that she was having an affair?” Meg said frantically.

I sat there wide-eyed, absorbed in the information about the Phantom's and Christine's encounters. I was in shock. I just sat back and leaned over as I pushed my plate aside.

“Wow! Poor Phantom....and Christine....”

“Yes, I know . . . she seemed dramatized the entire time he was at the ball. . .”

“So what happened that night that Patrick and I went to the Opera House; you know, the night that 'it' happened?” I asked with renewed questioning. I was especially eager to know what was going to happened, as you might know, if you've known me long enough, I always loved mystery.

But Meg looked at me in shock that I had the boldness to bring it up. After looking around for several minutes to make sure that no one was looking and listening to us. She finally tried to talk about it, but was still too frightened to say anything, I understood that this was very serious matter that Meg was about to tell me.

“Okay,” she recovered, “Well, as you know Don Juan Triumphant was going to be performed that night,” I nodded, “and well the Phantom wrote the opera as a scheme to take Christine from De Chagny. And instead of Piangi performing as Don Juan, the Phantom appeared as Don Juan in the last act.

“Which was.....?” I asked curiously.

“The Point of No Return, that's when the Phantom took Christine to his lair. That's why everyone doesn't want to talk about it, and that's why Patrick is dead…the chandelier dropped on him.” Every time she said that, she emphasized the word for the better of my understanding.

“Wow….but how?” I wanted so badly to know what happened.

“After Christine pulled his mask off, the Phantom cut a rope that made the chandelier a distraction for everyone as he jumped off the bridge with Christine.”

I was drowning in the dramatic details of the mishap then blurted out, “How dramatic!” I said it louder than I ever expected.

Meg had to cover my mouth because I was just about to shrieking from the excitement of the story. Meg backed away from I, and I stayed quiet for a few minutes, until she broke to silence.

“Sorry…..do you know what happened down there?”

“Well, from what my mother says, De Chagny went after Christine, just after the Phantom took her away. Then the Phantom started tried to strangle him with his lasso to make Christine stay with him. From what I heard….um….he said that if she leaves, Raoul dies, and if she stays with him, Raoul can leave alive.

"But eventually the Phantom saw that Christine didn't love him, but only Raoul. So, he let them go. I went down there later and found only his mask and blood, red rose with a black ribbon.” She finally concluded. Thus, ending the acknowledgement and so-called existence of the Phantom of the Opera.”

I sat there thinking about our conversation.

“My God, who would have known that?"

“Really...” She repeated herself.

“Well, I have to go to my room, I'm really tried. I'll talk to you later.....”

“Okay, bye!”

As I made my way down the hallway and up the stairs to room ninety-seven, I had to the funniest feeling in my mind. The feeling that someone was watching over me, but no one was around. But sometimes our imaginations may be right, for little did I know that there was someone watching as they lurking into the shadows.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

Melonie

As I went up the stairs I thought that maybe the Phantom's not all big and bad news.

‘If people look deeper into a person they just might find a rare gem within the rough.’ I thought dignifiedly. This was one of my father's sayings of life, I always treasured knowing them. My father had very good words of wisdom.

I was exhausted from my first day at the Opera House. Perhaps I would get used to the rush of the day from now on. I took the key and stabbed it into the key-hole and flung open the door, slammed it shut, and then plopped down on my bed and sighed and groaned. As I plopped on my bed I noticed there lain was a note along with a rose lying next to my head. I turned my head, and shook my head while taking in a sigh of this cliché. It was hard for me not to grab that note and read it. But curiosity got the better of me. So I sat up and ripped the note open.

“More lyrics?” I said smiling. As I opened the letter I was shaking my head in mean of this tedious happening, but once I opened and actually started to read the words….they completely entranced me, these words. They were absolutely beautiful. I could just imagine the music, very romantic, bold, captivating, and passionate, dare I say seductive. I realized that they were lyrics from the last opera, Don Juan Triumphant. I then quietly spoke the lyrics trying to think up a melody for this beautiful song. I could imagine the Phantom singing Don Juan's part.

Don Juan:

You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent, silent, I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge, in you mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses completely succumbed to me, now you are here with me, no second thoughts, you've decided, decided, past the point of no return, no backward glances, our games of make believe are at an end, past all thoughts of 'if' or 'when' no use resisting, abandon thought and let the dream descend, what raging fire shall flood the soul, what rich desire unlocks it's door, what sweet seductions lye before us, past the point of return, the final threshold, what warm unspoken secrets will we learn, beyond the point of no return.


When it was Aminta turn to sing, I very well guessed how Christine's voice was when she sang her part.

Aminta:

You have brought me, to that moment were words run dry, to that moment were speech disappears into silence, silence, I have come here hardly knowing the reason why, in my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining defenseless and silent, and now I am here with you, no second thought, I've decided, decided, past the point of no return, no going back now, our passion play has now at last begun, past all thought of right or wrong, one final question, how long should we two wait before were one, when will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom, when will the flames at last consume us.


Then Don Juan and Aminta were to sing together, as one.

Don Juan and Aminta:

Past the point of no return, the final threshold, the bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn, we've past the point of no return.


I remember that handwriting; it was the same one from the first lyrics. I then realized that Christine couldn't possibly leave the lyrics this time.

“Wait, so Daaé is gone.....and no one could just forget them or leave it without remember this time...this is real,” I then realized that there was a real purpose for this to happen, “Someone was meaning to give this...to me. But why me? And who would leave it for me in the first place?”

But this was all wiped from my mind when I put my hand down on the bed and felt something there. I looked down, hoping that the object I was about to see wouldn't alarm me any further but the luck of the Irish wasn't on my side today, there was a rose with a black ribbon at the side of my bed. I picked it up and examined the delicate flower.

The exact same one from the newspaper’s as Christine would describe, the same one from the graveyard--why didn’t I know then?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

~allegro repertoire: a exhilarating, vigorous dance that is given to dancers and is used to be memorized. This is used after the barre warm-ups, and is for warming-up you legs after you've loosened them out. Also used for loosening your muscles for leaps and many other gravity defying leaps dancer do. This is surely to get your heart rate up, beginner or professional. Great, way to break a--more of thousands--of sweats. I love this part of dance classes!!


We were angels once, don't you remember? Joys in life, inside our souls; and nobody knows, just you and me. It's our secret.
And your child-like eyes, and your distant smile; I'll never be this happy again! You and I. And no one else. || Maybe he'll come today. Maybe he came already...
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Name: Diane | Gender: Female | Age: 26 | Posts: 142 | Roses: 10
Old 01-06-2008 at 07:15 AM
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 Post [16] »


yay ^_^ i enjoyed this chapter as well. i cant wait for the next lol. ill keep watching for more. ^_^ nicely written ^_^


*In every shadow there is light, in every tear a smile. In death I know there still is life that lingers for awhile.*-Anonymous

●I am but a mere black rose....I am but the shadow that cloaks the night, forever bond to darkness...yet am I really such a fright?●

"Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo

"I felt myself shrinking and shriveling before her clear, candid gaze. I was once more that small boy, twisting a napkin around my finger in absolute terror that my request would be denied. Such a little thing, really, a kiss...most people don't give it a moment's consideration. They kiss on meeting, they kiss on parting, that simple touching of flesh is taken entirely for granted as a basic human right."-Erik from Susan Kay's Phantom-
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Name: Patricia Jane [pətrɪʃə dʒeɪn] | Gender: Lady | Age: 22 | Posts: 2,327 | Roses: 50
Old 01-06-2008 at 03:04 PM
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I Never Knew It ~ Chapter 7  Post [17] »



March 6, 1871

Melonie

“You mean....” Meg started and then stopped to make sure no one was listening. She then dragged me to a stray corner of the backstage and continued, “You just found them? They were just lying there, out of nowhere?” She questioned as we were waiting backstage at dance rehearsal. The poor girl was shacking as if she was left out in the bitter cold of winter for a century.

“Yes, at the graveyard the first time, and then last night too. Why is this such a big deal?” I said calmly, “I know exactly what you mean, but it’s nothing that I can control.” I was speaking much more relaxed than the tone that Meg used. I then started to think on the bright side as I thought myself far too nonchalant for such a situation, “Besides, I‘m sure it was some one else‘s Just because I received one last night doesn‘t mean that they both are from him. Doesn‘t someone else write music at the Opera?”

Meg looked sorry for me, “I wish I could tell you anything but the truth…” Just as Meg was about to continue both of us jump for an enraged yell. Madame Giry snapped at us, “Meg! Are you paying attention? It's you group's turn! You better completely the Port de bras correctly! You too, Melonie!” after her brief scolding she then began to continue with directions of à terre piqué tour en dedans after the port de bras. For once I wasn’t interesting in dance.

“Hold on…” Meg said quickly, knowing that her mother’s temper was faster than words. No later did we hear, “MEG!” Madame Giry scolded.

Meg jumped and ran on stage, not knowing what she had to do. As my group went across the stage, I could only think about one thing, 'Who else wrote music around here?'

“Head straight, Melonie…” Madame cried as I sighed, “Lively arms, Chantal…Cloe, don‘t worry about your hair for now, it‘s dancing first then wardrobe…”

As I went off stage after doing the port de bra four times after horribly completing the combination several times, I ran off to hear the rest of what Meg had to say.

“Well, where do I start? There's only one person that write the music at the Opera and that's the Phantom. If you would like to consider him as a hired worker, but he does get paid…” As Meg continued to ponder over her own thoughts, my mind in a haze as I could do was sit down and be miserably confused by the tale of the Phantom of the Opera. Why would he leave all those note for me? Why?

Breaking my train of thought, Meg started to talk to me again, “Did he leave anything else?”

“Yes…doesn’t he always leave something with his notes?” I asked. “I’m not sure…” she plainly replied.

Continuing without losing my own thought, “Well, it was a rose. A blood red rose....with a black, satin ribbon around it...Why? What significance does it serve?”

Meg looked at me in a grave way, “Melonie….” she said blankly at first then her words grew with shock every time she spoke, “Melonie, oh my! This is not good, not good at all, not one bit! You should know!”

“Calm down, I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems…” I said reassuringly not knowing what had happened. Myself was to believe that it was simply something that she was over-reacting from, but she then reassured me, “Oh, but it is!”

“Meg, calm down. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I would like to find out in an ordered fashion.” I just wanted her to stop before someone would notice her peculiar tone.

Meg fell into silence, inhaling very quickly; almost hyperventilating, but then suddenly started to scream frantically out of fright, “But he always gave Christine a rose exactly like that!” she panicked, “Don’t you know what the means…he’s back!”

It seemed as if time had paused and my mind has lost it’s memory. Does it really mean that?

At Meg’s words, just about everyone had turned their eyes at the moment. Both of us faced everyone as we stared at each other with the sides of our eyes as everyone fell into a deeper silence.

Meg finally whispered to me, “That was really loud, wasn't it?” But I couldn’t notice that I didn‘t reply. All I could see were eyes focusing all on me. All I could do was look at all of those eyes that were staring right back at me.

Madame Giry broke the silence among everyone else in the theater as she rushed to the area behind the wings towards Meg and I, “Meg, what is the meaning of your behavior today?” she asked in her thick French accent.

Without thinking I started to blurt out an answer, “Madame Giry, it wasn't her fault, really it wasn't!” I started then pause to think of what to say next, “It was mine!”

“And why is this?” She questioned calmly, opposed to her previous tone.

“Well, you see,” I paused, but before I knew it the words flew out of my mouth, “Last night there was a note on my bed and they were lyrics from the previous opera.” I gasped at my words.

“You mean Don Juan Triumphant?” she asked calmly and slowly.

I started to slow down my words, “Yes Madame, and um...a...”

“Rose? From what I heard…” Madame Giry said recalling from what Meg and I were discussing from before. I nodded stiffly back. Everyone looked at me as if I were a curse, some even gasped.

“And which lyrics where they?” Madame Giry asked me; she still didn't seem to be shocked or she wasn't convenience to be shocked.

“The Point of No Return, Madame,” I said meekly.

Madame Giry finally gave a shocked look back at me. If she‘s worried, what‘s to honestly become of it…

For once Madame Giry couldn't manage to get words out anymore, but when she tried to say something not would come out, “Um.....Madame? What does it all mean? The letters? Roses? What does it all mean?” I asked her to start off her explanation…or at least I thought so.

Madame Giry seemed to have recovered, but only just a bit, “Melonie, go to your room. Stay there till I tell you any different. If I don’t say anything before tomorrow morning you can go out. But other than tomorrow, stay!”

“But, Madame....” I protested back.

“That was an order!” Madame Giry said sternly. She then walked out quickly, leaving me with a whole theatre of staring eyes looking at me. I was embarrassed at how much attention I've attracted, I jus walked swiftly and quietly out of the theatre.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

Melonie

As I walked out of the theatre and up the stair to my room, I kept on thinking to myself. Why me? Why me? Why me?

I finally made it to my room. I took my key. I jabbed the key into the keyhole and tore the door open. I slammed the door close behind me, frustrated. I then leaned on the door for support. What could possible be happening. I just plopped down on my bed.

Lying in bed, I tried to think of what could possibly be wrong with receiving these note. The way everyone responded to it, it seems as if they were all going to died.

“What did I possibly do to make this all happen? Why is it so serious? It's just a whole bunch of notes and lyrics!” I thought as I changed back into my regular day clothes, but deep down I knew very well, why it was a big deal. The Phantom has been leaving all these notes and lyrics. But why is everyone so scared of him returning? I really don't think he would hurt anyone. Thinking of all these things, I drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

Melonie

I finally woke up; it was about five minutes past midnight. I felt horrible, I had a stomachache from not eating dinner, and a headache from all the thoughts that ran in and from my mind. As I sat up in bed, I noticed another note on me stomach!

“What does he want from me?” I said to myself quietly, yet frustrated. I couldn't stop thinking of the endless possibilities that could happen to her. But, once again, interest got the better of me, so I torn open the note and read:

Dear Mademoiselle,

Here is a riddle that just might help you find you long lost prized possession.

“Great, a riddle to find a long lost belonging!” I joked sarcastically, at first but then realized I was missing something, “Hold on, what did I miss place now?”

You must look in here
Hint: There is a chandelier


“Ok, that means the theater...ummmm…hummm that’s actually really good for a riddle…with a hidden answer, but yet again easy to the mind...” Thank heaven for something light on the mind.

Then look up and to your far port side
That is where the prize shall hide

This is what you shall need to know in order to find you personal belonging. I am glad I found this for you. Good luck in finding what you have missed placed.

Your humble servant,
O.G.


“Alright. I’m off to find the missing possession.” I very well knew that everything that I've gotten like this, such as the roses and lyrics, have all been from the Phantom.

But why to me? Why me in the first place?

I now know this, yes, but what did he want from me? What did I do, did I do anything wrong? That just left me with a small smirk, All right....port...what does he mean by port? Then the thought of starboard and port…Ship terms...that means left....how did he know that? How did he know that…forgetting drifting thoughts, Anyways... far upper-left side of the theater......box...ummmm...five…

"I have to go to the theatre and then box five and then find my 'prize'.... Hummm, interesting....” I told myself.

The Phantom was much more mysterious that I could have ever thought from before. I took my candle from my bedside and started out of the room.

There was more curiosity than fear in my mind that night. Shaking my head in annoyance at my slight fear, I continued to make my way out of my room and made my way to the theatre, wandering what I possibly could have lost. As forgetful I am…

As I made my way down the silent hallway of the Opera House with only a candle to guide me through darkness, I couldn't do anything but smirk and silent laugh at the silence of it all.

Everyone must be worn out!

When I made it to the theatre, I looked at the far up left side of the stage and there I saw box five. I walked down the aisle closes to that area. I then, oddly, felt the presence of someone near and I stopped dead in my tracks. I pause for a good while then snapped my head over my shoulder. Realizing that there was nothing, I rolled my eyes at myself and continued down. Then all of a sudden heard a thump!

I jumped and looked around. Fear filled my thoughts. Agitated at myself was I…"Oh, come on!" I sighed madly at myself...I hated my fear of someone watching over me like this. I finally made my way down to the stage. I made my way up some stair in order to get to box five. The stairs were dusty, maybe because no one else uses this box besides the Phantom. When I finally got there, I saw that in the seat closes to the stage was my journal.

“So that what I've been looking for, I was wandering were that went...Last time I used that…was…”

At the cemetery…But how?

Pondering over the thought, I made my way down to the front of the stage. I then had the sudden urge of mystery, and walked up the stage and wandered through the back of the stage. I walked quietly, but then all of a sudden my candle went out...

I could only squint in the darkness as I my eyes gently adjusted to the dark with the help of the moon. There I was, in the middle of the stage, with only moonlight to guide me now through darkness as it shined through the window. The curtains were a darker red than in the light, as the moon’s gleam reflected from the polished floors. It was a very dark night without a single star in the sky. The wings of the stage were darker and more dismal than before. The painting to the ceil was darkened as the angels looked more in a night sky opposed to the bright sky blue it is during daylight. I stood in at center stage as I looked out to all of the seats that Opera patrons possess during their stay. The golden statues that stay as a column against the walls and off the to side were with a deep bronze appeal to its gleam and shine. Looking up to the boxes, I looked at the Managers box and then across from it: Box 5. I could imagine during a performance that he was in his box, but I couldn’t see him, but only his shadow.

After my eyes had wandered through out the dark and I found that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Continuing upstage I thought about the note from the Phantom, are all the lyrics just riddle for her to solve? Just like the riddle he just gave me.

What's the point of all these notes anyways? But no matter, there was something more to my interest at the time. In the distance there was a voice, a very faint voice. At first I didn't know what it was saying, until the voice grew a bit in to a low whisper, loud enough for me to understand. I then realized that the voice was singing the lyrics to the first note that I received.

The voice was angelic and soothing, but then again demanding. I had to admit, I was amazed by the voice so much that she didn't remember anything, I didn't remember where I was, my last thoughts, and my confusions about the Phantom: Nothing about it was in my mind at the time. I finally came back to my sense when the voice lowered until it was gone. I stopped and looked around to seek where the voice had come from.

“Where did it go?” I asked myself in a gentle whisper. I then realized that I was actually looking for something in all this dead silence, “Wait, who would be there in the first place?” I then started to remember this; I remembered this from somewhere, but where?

“My dream.....” I tried to remember what happened after that part of my dream; my mind running wild with crazy ideas of what happened. Before I could think anymore I turned around to leave. Just as I turned around, I was face-to-face to a masked man, my mystery man from my dream…


We were angels once, don't you remember? Joys in life, inside our souls; and nobody knows, just you and me. It's our secret.
And your child-like eyes, and your distant smile; I'll never be this happy again! You and I. And no one else. || Maybe he'll come today. Maybe he came already...
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Name: Diane | Gender: Female | Age: 26 | Posts: 142 | Roses: 10
Old 01-06-2008 at 05:42 PM
death_shadows
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Opera Spirit

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 Post [18] »


oh i cant wait to read more....im wondering wut will happen next.....post soon ^^


*In every shadow there is light, in every tear a smile. In death I know there still is life that lingers for awhile.*-Anonymous

●I am but a mere black rose....I am but the shadow that cloaks the night, forever bond to darkness...yet am I really such a fright?●

"Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo

"I felt myself shrinking and shriveling before her clear, candid gaze. I was once more that small boy, twisting a napkin around my finger in absolute terror that my request would be denied. Such a little thing, really, a kiss...most people don't give it a moment's consideration. They kiss on meeting, they kiss on parting, that simple touching of flesh is taken entirely for granted as a basic human right."-Erik from Susan Kay's Phantom-
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Name: Patricia Jane [pətrɪʃə dʒeɪn] | Gender: Lady | Age: 22 | Posts: 2,327 | Roses: 50
Old 01-06-2008 at 11:57 PM
Hidden Away
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Blossoming New Life

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I Never Knew It ~ Chapter 8  Post [19] »


March 7, 1871

Melonie

I remembered this man from my dream; I just thought how this could happen. Have I only wished that he was real, but now he was? How could this be? Something is most definitely wrong….I must be dream….

But alas, I wasn’t dream, this was real. I was, once again, strongly attracted to this man, more than I was in my dream in fact. He was very tall, about nine inches taller than me. His hair was a very dark, dark, dark brown color….almost black, and it was slicked back, very neat, and not to mention handsome. I recalled him wearing a white, long, sleeved, button-up, shirt; under a black vest; and a long black jacket over all that with black pants from my dream, and that's exactly what he was wearing right now. His eyes glistened with a dark green appearance, either from the darkness of the theatre, or they were originally dark green. All of the features of the left side of his face were very attractive, if only the right side of his face weren't so hidden would I fully gaze into his eyes.

His mysterious, snow, white mask gave him a certain appeal as I looked at him. I looked at him as I could feel the sides of my face slightly lift up to a soft smile. He just stood there, he started to smirk at me. Of course he is, or so I wish he was…. I thought to myself.

I tried to snap out of my daydreaming and wishing, but I couldn’t….he was really smirked at me. He had a very attractive smirk, which made my small smile vanish. I look at him blankly and blush a little. Not wanting to get too far into his gaze, I stepped back a bit, but not too far to make him think that I was frightened. In fact, curiosity over took my fright as you know.

“Who are you?” I asked. But you know who he is. From the dreams right? Or do I know?

“Never mind that, the question is 'Who are you?'” He said smoothly and confidently. He immediately looked into my eyes.

To me, his words were so mystifying. They started to lure me in, to lure me into his trap.

My dejà vu was very odd and very unseen, but then again I saw it coming. I stepped a bit closer to him, feeling comfortable near him now, and stepped into the moonlight. I was just trance fix into his eyes.

“Why do you asked, my good Misour?” I asked him question-like with a slight smile on my face. I was very intrigued by this man, but why? I didn't know him, but only as the Phantom of the Opera.

This is actually happening? To finally meet the so-called notorious Phantom of the Opera. Come on, just tell me one bad thing he’s done, and then you have all the damned right to call him ‘notorious’.

“I have been watching you lately, and have longed to know you name. So if you would, what is you name, Mademoiselle?” He said almost as if he was reciting the words.

“I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours first....” I said cunningly. I did realize that I could think like this with slyness and cunning skills in my words. I'm good! Oh, but God, he is better!

I was hoping that he wouldn't see me staring at him ever so passionately, deeply, and lovingly.

He just smiled and look at me, “Alright then my name is...” just as he was about to say his name, I stupidly cut into his words.

“You know what? I'll tell you mine first.” I said to him looking at his face.

He still didn't looked agitated from my stupid change, but instead, I saw more his smile or more of, smirk at me.

“Alright....” he just said.

But I too was caught upon his eyes to notice him say anything. I just quickly blinked my eyes. There was something about his eyes, their mysterious green color, or could it be there desirous look in them? But what ever it was it made me feel warm inside and comforted.

He was the first to shake off the feeling, “Your name, Mademoiselle?” he asked. But I could barely notice, I was too mesmerized by his eyes. Why is it always his eyes? I asked referring back from my dream and even up to now…

I started to feel light headed, but before I could do anything about it, I was into his arms. I've fallen into his arm. Literately, I’ve fallen for him. This fast? No!
It can’t be, it just can’t. He just makes me feel so light-headed. He looked into my eyes even closer than before. He started to help me up to my feet. Did I feel stupid for falling into his arms like that, but hated it when he released me from his warming, strong grasp.

I tried not to blush and glow ever so deeply, but I, instead, tried to replace it with a smile. But no matter what I did, nothing could cover up my glow. But none the less, I continued our conversation, trying to sound not so foolish.

“Sorry....Alright, my name is Melonie.”

He just looked at me and smiled a beautiful smile to me.

“So what's you name?” I shyly questioned.

“Well, now that I can say it now,” He said jokingly, I blushed at my ridiculous comment about exchanging our name…‘I'll tell you mine first…’ What was I thinking?

“My name is Erik.” He said in a very deep, handsome voice.

“Erik,” I repeated, “I like that name. It’s a very nice name.”

“Yours too, Melonie.”

We, once again, were silent. I didn't know about him, but I was trapped into his eyes. I was drowning in his deep sea of green eyes and could escape the tide.

“Melonie?”

“Yes, Erik?” I said eager to know what he was asking for.

“Would you like to come to my lair?”

I smirked at his offer, “Is it really beneath the Opera House?” I asked in wonder.

He nodded shyly.

“Then, how do you get there?” I asked willingly wanting to know about his mysterious home that I've heard of from the newspaper from Miss Daaé's descriptions. To her, her horrid memories, but to me an exciting adventure.

“You mean you want to go?” He sounded surprised.

“Well, you asked,” I said jokingly, "And besides, I hear it's like a cave of some sort. Their so mystery, and intriguing. I remember when father would take me down to one. I think it's amazing!”

“Well, yes, but it's not exactly a cave, and well, not mysterious at all?” Erik replied modestly as he shifted his weight from one foot to another.

“I'm very sure it is, Erik,” I said reassuringly, a whisper type of tone. It sent even more shivers down my spine just to say his name.

“How do you know?” He asked confused.

“Erik,” I smiled, “If the owner is you and the saying 'One's home is one's true reflection of one's self' is right.....then, yes your home is one-hundred and one percent mysterious....” I smiled.

He didn't look so happy anymore, or more or less confused at my eagerness, but instead he looked quite defeated and mournful, “And hideous in my case,” he said to himself.

My smile vanished, I felt bad that he took my words in such implication. I knew that he was ashamed of his deformity. But there was nothing for him to be ashamed of though, he's still a person, a living being on this Earth put here by God. He's just different from everyone else. That's probably why he's intriguing to me. I didn't intend on him finding that 'con' within the lines of my words. Damn, he's a fast thinker...Hummm....

I reached out a took his hand into mine and softly squeezed his finger, “Erik, to me, your not the way everyone thinks of you. Even though I've only known you through you way with words and actually have known you for the past ten, sixteen minutes or so.” I said with a quirk on my face, “I find you different, and kind, sweet and…ummm, well,” I didn't know how to put the other words that I thought about him in, “But I find you actually rather, well, quite the opposite of what you think of yourself, actually rather handsome in my eyes, if you ask me…..” I said quietly looking down and started to blush. I let go of his hand and fiddled with my own finger for a while. When I looked up I saw that his face was rubicund itself.

At least I'm not alone there…

“Tha....thank you.....Melonie,” Erik said, falling over the words. He then shook it off, smirked at me.

"You're welcome, Erik," I knew very well that I was still blushing, for, one, I felt so warm inside, and two, Erik was looking at me in that certain way.


Erik then let out a hand for me to take. I took his hand; with my journal in the other, I followed Erik to his lair.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

Melonie

Erik led me through a trapped door around the floor of the stage. As we walked down to Erik's lair, I was intrigued by all the sights.

His hand was warm, soft, and gentle underneath his leather gloves, this sent shivers down my spine.

I was so captivated by Erik. He would look back at me and smirk in a kind, but demanding way which would drive me insane inside. But I knew better than to think anything else. What's wrong with you, Mel? You can fall for anyone! No matter what! Especially some like Erik…he’s too good for you…

“I never knew this was beyond the Opera House wall...and you designed it all?”

Erik looked back at me and nodded and smiled.

I smiled at him, “Too amazing for words, hummm?” I said.
I saw Erik as a different person. Just like my mother always told me, my gift was to bring out the best side of everyone. And what I saw in Erik was one-hundred percent perfect, everything about him was perfect, his personality, the way he talked, and even he looked perfect, charming, and everything I've looked for. But I could let that get the better of me.

Come on, you know you're only friends with him...sure that's right...only friends....God, Mel!

Just then Erik helped me in to a gondola. I almost fell, as clumsy as I am, but he immediately grabbed my other hand and pulled me away from falling backwards and pulled me closer to him. I felt, once again, stupid.

“Told, you I’m gawkish. . .”

He just chuckled lightly and told me different.

Water trickled as the oar moved through the water. He effortlessly glided the boat through the water. I could tell that he was very muscular from his effortless way of shoving through the water.

“Erik?” I asked him quietly as I looked over my shoulder.

“Yes, Melonie?” He looked down at me.

“Have you been leaving those lyrics for me...and roses?” I asked curiously.

Erik couldn't do anything else, but nod.

“Why?” I asked gently.

All Erik could do was looked at me in a way of saying, 'I don't know.'

“Oh, come on, I'm not mad if that‘s what you think. Don’t mind all those fools. They’re just too ignorant to admit your genius mind. If I were you, I wouldn’t mind what they’d say, as long as I’m not harming anyone I’ll believe whatever want. I just want to know, alright?” I offered, trying to pry the answer from him. But then again, not trying to sound so eager.

Taking in a deep breath Erik answered quickly, “I wanted to know if it was any good....you see, people around here don't want me around, and are scared of me...so you didn't seem like a hateful people...so I gave them to you.”

Poor Erik sounded more embarrassed than he looked.

I lightly laughed at his fast words and looked to him with a bit of affection, “Well, don't think anymore! I know its great music! In fact, it's beautiful!” I said confidently.

“Really?” He asked surprised.

“Of course, would I lie to you?” I said jokingly, “It was so beautiful. . .both of the songs! They were so bold, daring, filled with passion, it was intriguing! You know, those kind of things captures people’s heart and their attention…”

Erik looked surprised that I actually liked the music. His eyes traveled down as he continued to move the gondola along the lake. The sound of water took over the silence of our conversation, until I broke the silence once more.

“Erik, you really should believe in yourself, you have great talent in you, in fact, in everything you do, you music, your art, you architectural designs. You're amazing!”

After this comment Erik was once again the color of roses. I just smiled at him, hoping I would reassure him mind, “Thanks, Melonie never thought it was that good.“ I could tell that he was never told anything like that before; I just smiled at him gingerly.

“Well, it is, and you should know it! You wrote it.” I was facing Erik. Wow, a humble guy, I like that....No Melonie! You can't!!

Erik then stopped the gondola, and held out a hand for me to take. I smiled and took his hand, once again, I was infused by his touch; so soft and gentle. When I finally took my gaze off of Erik, I turned my attention to his home. It was beautiful beyond imagination could ever be. I gasped at every which way I turned. There were candles everywhere, which gave the room a warm feeling. But then again it was dim, and the lights were low, it made it feel romantic. I some what blushed at the thought.

“It's so beautiful...” I managed to say softly, “How did you design something so amazing?” I asked as I walked over and fingered sculptural design. I then looked over my shoulder to see him.

He just smiled at me. Erik then led me to his organ. He let go of my hand and walked to his organ. He left me standing in awe of the amazing instrument before me.

“Wow, I've never seen an organ before...” I said that steps up the stairs to the great instrument before me.

“Wait till you hear it....the most beautiful sound.” Erik said.

“I'm sure the music is better than the sound itself.” I replied.

He just paused a bit, “Would you like me to play some music for you?” Erik asked.

“You mean the lyrics that you left me?” I asked excitedly.

“Of course......”

“Alright.....” I said eagerly, “So what are you going to play for me?”

“The first lyrics that I gave you, The Music of the Night.”

I nodded and sat down on the couch near the organ.

Erik smiled softly at me, and started to play. The music was just as I imagined, soft, melodic, gently; but then again demanding. It started softly, but then came to a climax and was at the loud possible, but yet again tender.....it was beautiful. I has never heard anything so beautiful in my entire life. When the song ended, I couldn't say one word. All I could do was look at Erik and stare.

“So, what did you think..?” He asked.

I was still amazed by the music, the melody lingered in my mind; the notes, so pure and angelic; his voice, so luring and seductive. “That was so.....” I tried to find the perfect word for it but couldn't, “That's all I can say, it was better than perfect, it was more than beautiful…no words in this world could ever describe that, none at all....it's too amazed for words,” I said out of a faint voice. I then reassured him about his talent, "See, I told you you're a great composer.”

“No one ever takes to time to listen….no one would listen…”

“Well, is there anything that you can't do?” I asked him jokingly.

Erik slightly paused and smiled at me. Apparently, he was looking for a serious answer, “Well, I can't dance like you can.”

“How did you know that I danced?” I asked lightly sarcastically. I just continued to slightly smile at him, “Yes well, I don't dance that well though,”

“Oh, but you do, such grace, poise....” he said very sweetly to me. I started to feel a wave of heat come over my face.

“Sure, right, on the stage maybe, but if you saw me just walking, you wouldn't have known that I danced. I guess the stage has a different effect on me.” I said thoughtfully.

“Are there any other dances that you do besides Ballet?” He asked.

“I first learned ballroom dancing,” I said with a childish smile, “Father and mother always taught me a new dance. Father would always dance with me at night on the deck of the....” I began to get caught up into memories of mom and dad. Little did I know that a few tears ran down my cheeks.

“Is everything alright...” Erik stood up walking towards me.

I noticed that Erik saw my tears, “Yes, everything's....” I then started to sob and gasp in a desperate breath of air every once in a while. I felt dumb for crying in from of Erik, but it just came out. I feel like I could just be myself with him, not someone that he doesn't know, or I don't know myself.

Erik walked over and stood in front of me. He took a finger and lifted my chin to look at him, I looked away, and shook my head. I was just so hurt by memories of my parents. I pulled away from his finger. I didn't want to be seen by Erik like this. He then placed a hand on my shoulders to tell me that he understands what I was feeling. Did he really?

His hands we as warm as the sun. I know he could feel me tremble. I just hoped he don't fine out it's because his touch….so intoxicating. “Shhh....it's alright...” He said softly, as he brought a finger under my face and he wiped away a tears, “Melonie, please tell me why you're crying...”

I looked up at him and saw a concerned face, concerned for me? I tried to pull myself together. I finally compiled myself and started to speak, “You see....my mother and father, their dead.”

“I'm so sorry...” Erik said sorrowful.

“Oh don't be...” I said recovered from my tears. “It was so long ago, that it's silly for me to cry about it....”

“How did they?” He asked.

I did feel that I needed to get out the tale if I started to ridiculously cry in front of him and it was that 'horrible', then, yes, it must be so bad! Not!

“It's a long story, but....” I started.

“I'm all ears.” Erik said.

I smiled at his attention and started, “You see, my father was a pirate of the Red Sea. He met my mother when he was going to the Philippine Islands to explore. My mother was a native there. She then snuck away with him, and they married. They were so much in love.

“My father was the keeper of the Scarlet Pearl, which has been in our family for many generations. There were other pirates after him and the pearl. And one day, they got on the ship. My mother and father hid me with the pearl. Their last words to me were, 'Don't worry; we'll soon be together again...'” I then started to laugh at the word, “'...Once we fight off these damn pirates.....' and that was the last that I heard of them. That night the pirates claimed the ship as they were trying to find the pearl. Assuming that I was then the keeper of the pearl, I snuck away before they could find me and I used the rescue boat as a getaway. I live on an island for about three months.

“I then sailed to Ireland's port once I managed to make a boat out what ever I had on that island. It was the same port where my father grew up, he was famous around there so I had some connects. I turned thirteen; my friend‘s parent and turned me in to a orphanage. They sent us to school, that's were I met Emily, Carrie, Vivi, Mandy, Ann, Seren, and Patrick. They were all the daughter and son’s of my father’s friends, and now we all are friends. It’s like e tradition. ”

“I'm truly sorry....” Erik said again.

“Well, don't be, I such a long time ago that I should have gotten over it many years ago!” I said thoughtlessly.

“I mean Patrick…I heard you crying the next day when you received the new about his death….” He said sorrowful.

“Oh, well it's alright…God intended, so let it be done…he should be happy anyways…”

He moved off the subject of death, “You still keep the pearl?”

I nodded with a small smile.

“That's a very interesting story.....the Philippines islands.” He repeated. “Is that near Japan?” He questioned as if he were to recall something.

I nodded once more with a smile.

“Have you been there?” He asked.

“Only the northern part, my mother was from the southern part, but she promised to never go back there. They probably were looking for her, and where worried sick. She had an arranged marriage with some Japanese man, but ran away with my father....if she didn't I wouldn't be here...”

He was silent for a while, “What was like there?”

“Very rural and humid, but it was beautiful; there were beaches; and the water was so clear. You would have like it,”

“I bet I would have….the people there have skin like yours?”

I laughed at his curiosity, “Yes, I got my mother's completion and my attitude from father's side.” I said, rolling my eyes at myself.

“What was you favorite ballroom dance?”

“Any Latin dance, I adored,” I said lightly, “It's always filled with passion and love. But I still like the others, like the Waltz and....” I then again stopped in the middle of my sentence. Darn memories…..

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“The Waltz,” I said quietly, “The Waltz was the last dance I ever danced with my father before the pirates took over the ship. And I never have danced it since,” I said, I was having hard time breathing. Then I starting my words with a renewed sound from my grieving state, “It will always be his dance in my heart.

“But there are many other types of dances beside ballroom that I know. Of course, ballet, Pointe, but I know some international dances like River dance, some Philippine tradition dances.”
“What type of dances did they teach you from your mother's culture?”

I told Erik of the many dances that I grew up with from my father's teaching to my mother's Philippines traditional dancing. I tried to teach him how to pronounce some of the dances. It took him a while, but he got it.

I told him about dancing in a dance school in the Philippines. But I told him mostly about my favorite dance, Sayaw sa Bangko.

“Have you ever been dropped.” He asked referring to the part of the dance where the girls partner swings my from side to side of the bench.
“Once, when I was at a dance school in the Philippines, but my father never dropped me when I danced with him.” I started to get quiet after that.

He then started to ask, “What dances can you dance alone, one that you can show me?”

“Aww…gosh, I'm sorry. I really don't feel like dancing right now, and well, umm, I really don't want to dance in my day clothes…darn corset won't let me move at all…..” I tried to laugh it off.

Sure I didn't want to dance right now…are you joking I would dance at any time, but not in front of Erik. I was too embarrassed. He had showmen-ship, pride, and uniqueness in his works…me I was a scared little chicken in the corner. He was so outgoing if people gave him the chance to be.

Erik smiled at me, “That's alright. Well, do you remember any other dances from the Philippines?”

“Yes, but most of them you have to have a partner. Father was always my partner.” I said lightly while softly smiling.

Just then a huge sound rang through-out Erik's lair.

“Ding-Ding-Ding!”

“Three 'O Clock.....Wow!” I said thoughtlessly until I caught the awareness of what I just said,
“Wait, three in the morning? Oh my goodness! Erik I really have to go! I have practice tomorrow morning and...I'm so sorry.....”

Erik just smiled at me trying to reassure me that it was alright, “Okay, may I take you to your room?”

“Alright, thanks for understanding.....”

“That's okay. You need you rest for tomorrow, you need to do your best at rehearsal.”

I just smiled, I couldn’t find words to say to Erik right now. I was amazed of how Erik was extremely sweet and kind. I was confused though, how could people be frightened of Erik; he's just a regular human being like everyone!

Erik got up from his seat. He walked over to me, about half-way across the room. We then sat in the gondola. He then started to paddle our way back to my room. I just smiled at his understanding.

I was very interested in how Erik loved his music so dearly and passionately. I was amazed how he would write something so entrancing. He wrote with such great passion; nothing could stop him from thinking of the most beautiful words to just get to my heart. Right where it hurts!

The whole time back to my room we both were silent. I was just only thinking about Erik and his talents….amazing at his works and ambitions.

We finally came to my mirror. Just as I was going to walk though the mirror I had many thoughts in my mind.

Oh, come you have to show him you care at least!

Before I could think of something to do to thank him, I turned around and flung my arms around Erik. He was so warm and welcoming. I bet he was greatly surprised at my sudden act. I was surprised as well. I embraced him into a deep hug, “Thank you so much! You home is truly beautiful, Erik.” And then my tone grew softer into a whisper, “And remember the way I see you when I use the cliché 'One's home is one's true reflection of one's self.' Remember that I think you home is wonderful, unique, and mysterious, so remember that mean I know you're wonderful, unique, and mysterious, too. Okay?”

I still embraced Erik when he started to slowly hug me back, “Thank you, Melonie. Thank you for having faith in me, I'll deeply appreciate that. You may come to my lair anytime that you want to get away from the world.”

I savored the feeling of his arms around me. So strong and desirous, I never wanted to leave his arms.

I pulled away slowly, after hearing he's offer, I just had to reply looking into his eyes, “Thank you, Erik. And of course, I'll come to your home when ever you want me too. I think I just might be too bored on days I've nothing to do. I really enjoy coming.” I said looking around, trying to find some words to continue on, "I just have to come on the day that I don't have work. But I promise I will.” I said smiling.

Strangely, I lost control of myself. I reached out to Erik's height and kissed him on the cheek. Even though it lasted for only a second, to me it felt like eternity. His skin so warm and soft, the touch of his skin again my lips sent shivers down my spine. I went down to my regular height and smiled at him. Even though I really didn't intend on doing that, I now never regretted it. All I could do was look down to hide my blush.

He then asked out of curiosity, “What was that for?” with a smirk on his face, he actually looked as if he were flattered.

I looked up at him and my smile softened, “It's 'thank you', for being my friend. I thought I'd never have any other friend after Patrick. And well also for; sharing your talents; your home, especially this late; and well for everything!”

“Well, thank you for being my friend, Melonie. By the way, what's your last name; your father's last name?”

“O' Riley,” I said proudly with a smile, "Jane's my middle name. . ."

“Melonie Jane O'Riley...nice name...” He said quietly to himself as he put the three names together.

“Thank you….and yours?” I questioned.

“Destler, Erik Michael Destler.” Erik said meekly.

“That's a nice name, Misour Destler.” I said trying out my so-called French accent on his name, “Well, thank you.....for everything...you're really a true friend.”

There was silence between us for a few second and then I spoke up, “Well I must get some rest for tomorrow; good night, Erik. And thank you.” I said as I walked though the mirror.

“You can use the mirror; just make sure you close it fully. You never know who might lurk around. I'm sorry to keep you up so later. You do need your rest. Good night, Melonie.”

I nodded my head, “Good night, Erik…” I then walked into my room. Just as I did, the mirror shut ever so quietly. I turned around; I looked in the mirror and saw nothing. I lightly laugh and went to the bathroom. I did my regular wash up. I then changed into a night gown, and headed off to bed.

I sat in bed thinking about Erik's beautiful home. But mostly, I thought about him. Now I can go to sleep without worrying about who the 'Opera Ghost' is or worrying about the Phantom of the Opera haunting my room. Instead, I knew that this so called 'monster' was just as sweet as a man can ever get. For once Madame Giry was wrong; there was nothing to worry about, nothing to be worried for being off guard for.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*

Melonie

Now this is just a memory of many years ago. Now that I think about it I never saw it, I never saw that there was something that I could be caught off guard for....there was something deep down, really deep down! Something that I couldn't just exactly touch on what it was. Little did I know that this so-called 'sweetness' in this man was going to get the better of me....and my promise to myself.


We were angels once, don't you remember? Joys in life, inside our souls; and nobody knows, just you and me. It's our secret.
And your child-like eyes, and your distant smile; I'll never be this happy again! You and I. And no one else. || Maybe he'll come today. Maybe he came already...
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Name: Diane | Gender: Female | Age: 26 | Posts: 142 | Roses: 10
Old 01-07-2008 at 12:27 AM
death_shadows
Wandering Child
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very good. i loved it. ^_^ cant wait to read more.


*In every shadow there is light, in every tear a smile. In death I know there still is life that lingers for awhile.*-Anonymous

●I am but a mere black rose....I am but the shadow that cloaks the night, forever bond to darkness...yet am I really such a fright?●

"Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo

"I felt myself shrinking and shriveling before her clear, candid gaze. I was once more that small boy, twisting a napkin around my finger in absolute terror that my request would be denied. Such a little thing, really, a kiss...most people don't give it a moment's consideration. They kiss on meeting, they kiss on parting, that simple touching of flesh is taken entirely for granted as a basic human right."-Erik from Susan Kay's Phantom-
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